The Horror Of Our Love
by BlaqkHysteria
Summary: Ever wondered how Blonde became who he is? Well, behind every great psychopath there's a great woman…
1. Masquerade

_**The Horror Of Our Love**_

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><p><em>1. Masquerade<em>

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><p>The room was full of people; long nightgowns and bowties, top hats and sparkling jewels. Everyone was dancing, except them.<p>

They stood by a flight of stairs, waiting on the perfect moment to approach their target.

"Maybe we should dance, y'know, to blend in?" the man said, smiling charmingly at the woman on his arm.

"There will be no dancing, Vic," she dryly answered, without a glance at him.

"I swear, Nicole, this is the last time I help you," he snorted.

"Walters went outside for a smoke," she noticed, her eyes focused on a man in a grey suit walking in the garden right outside the windows. "Make sure nobody follows me."

"Yes ma'am," the man smirked.

"Meet me at the car in ten minutes," she whispered in his ear, then stood on her tiptoes and placed a quick kiss on his lips. Left there alone, the man sighed in frustration, and proceeded to get another round of champagne.

Nicole crossed the dancing floor quickly, and went out straight into the garden. The dim light was enough for her to spot her target, a few feet ahead of her. She took a cigarette out of her purse, and started to approach him, glancing back at the windows to make sure no one could see them.

"Got a light?" she asked, smiling.

"Sure," the man replied, shamelessly checking her out as he took a lighter out of his breast pocket.

"Thank you," she smiled again, then lit her cigarette. The man winked at her, and she struggled with the urge to break his neck.

Instead of doing that, she opened her purse again, and pulled out a gun, with a silencer attached to it. The man didn't even notice, busy as he was looking down at her décolleté. He noticed the gun only when Nicole pressed it to his chest. Needless to say, he had no time to say anything. In a few seconds, he was lying dead on the ground. The woman kneeled down and used a napkin to get her fingerprints off his lighter, then put the gun back in her bag.

She adjusted her hair and headed straight to Victor's black Cadillac. He was leaning on the hood smoking, but got in the car and started it as soon as he saw her. She got in, and they drove away.

"All good?" he asked.

"As usual," she smiled. "So, what do you think, a badass yacht or another beach house?"

"How about Paris?"

"I have to work, Vic," she frowned.

"Yeah, me too, actually. I saw Eddie today, we're doing a job next week."

"Another bank?"

"No, just some drug dealer who owes Joe a fuckload of money."

"Nice," Nicole dryly commented, not at all impressed.

She couldn't understand how Victor managed to do such _boring _jobs. Not that killing a congressman with a silencer was any more fun, quite the opposite in fact, but that was just a routine gig for her. Most of the time she got to have her way with the victims, and _that _was fun. The only thing differencing her from a serial killer was that she got paid a shitload of money to kill people. She considered herself an artist, and Victor agreed completely. Her innocent beauty was haunting, even more when she was covered in blood, giving him her perfect million-dollar-smile.

She had always been like that, or at least she already was when they met, five years before. He went inside a bank to rob it, and Nicole was there. In a second she managed to kick him in the groin and take his gun, and that had never happened to him before. It turned him on in the weirdest of ways. He always told her that was the exact moment in which he fell in love with her. Nicole smiled a lot, but she never said that kind of things. She thought of love as an infectious and deadly disease, but Victor didn't mind. He knew she loved him, even though she'd never admit it, not even to herself.

When he pulled over by their house that night, he noticed something different in her. She got out of the car and opened the front door just like she always did, but there was something in her eyes, something he'd never seen before in them.

He could have sworn it was _guilt._


	2. Expectations

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><p><em>2. Expectations<em>

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><p>"I'm booked on Friday, Joe, remember?" Nicole chuckled darkly into the phone, while Victor stared at her from the black leather couch. "Yes, Sunday works for me… oh, we're framing the husband? Sounds awesome. I get to have some fun finally!" she cheered. Victor giggled, and she smiled happily at him. Nicole said goodbye to Joe and hung up the phone, then collapsed on the sofa next to her man. Vic put his arm around her neck and pulled her in a heated kiss.<p>

"Vic, baby, you're gonna be late."

"Let them wait," he whispered in her ear, then proceeded to trail wet kisses down her neck. Nicole leaned into the touch, but then she pulled away, just enough to look him in the eyes.

"Victor," she said firmly. The man pulled away from her and sighed. He hated the hint of annoyance in her voice.

"I swear to fucking god, Nicole—"

"Just go to work."

"I'm gonna be gone for _three_ _days_, and you don't even—"

"You'll get your fill when you're back, big boy."

"That's not what I meant and you know it."

"You want me to say that I'll miss you? Want me to sit here like a dog waiting for you?" she calmly asked.

"You know what? Screw you, Nicky," Victor yelled, getting up. He grabbed his coat and headed for the door.

"I'll miss you," she spat out.

"You're a sociopath."

"I'll miss you," she repeated, in the sweetest tone Victor had ever heard. He turned around to look at her, and saw a growing sadness in her eyes. For a second, he thought she might cry. _That's just insane, _he thought. Nicole looked down at her feet and bit her lip, so he approached her once more and kneeled down in front of her.

"What the hell is wrong with you, babe?" he asked.

"We should have never met," she said in a low voice, looking him dead in the eye. The statement startled Victor, and he didn't say another word as she got up and vanished into their bedroom.

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><p>"Nicole?" Victor called from the hallway, as he closed the door. No answer. "Baby?" he called again, and again he got no answer. He looked at his watch. <em>It's four in the morning, where the hell is she?<em>

He threw his duffle bag on the couch and started undressing as he made his way to the bathroom. Yawning, he washed his hands then headed for the bedroom to get a good night's sleep.

And when he entered the bedroom, Nicole was there. She was sound asleep. Judging by the bottles on the floor, it looked like she drank herself to sleep. Victor shook his head, sighing, and threw away the empty bottles, careful not to make any noise. The woman rolled over in her sleep, and when he looked back at her his mouth fell open. Her right eye was bruised and swollen, as was her cheekbone. She had a gun wound on her biceps and more bruises on her hips, scratches on her arms, and handcuff bruises on her wrists and ankles.

Victor was shocked. Whoever did that to her must have been really fucking mad and also really good. As far as he could remember, Nicole had always had the upper hand in fights. She was too fast and she hit too hard to ever let anyone overpower her. But someone had beaten her black and blue, and sure as fucking hell he was gonna torture them to death.

"Nicole?" he asked as he shook her gently, careful not to touch any of her bruises. "Nicole," he repeated louder. The woman woke up abruptly and immediately sat up and looked for her gun. "Nicky, it's me," he reassured her, gently caressing the side of her face. Nicole shied away from his touch and looked at him. The man was shocked by the look on her face, a mix of fear and guilt, with a side of misery. He'd never seen her like that.

"What the fuck happened?"

"I live dangerously," Nicole shrugged, looking away. Her features relaxed into her usual I-couldn't-give-a-flying-shit expression, and Victor sighed deeply.

"That looks like a bullet," he noticed, gesturing at her shoulder. "I'll be right back."  
>Nicole tilted her head slightly, raising a brow as she observed the wound. Yes, that was definitely a bullet. She hadn't noticed it before, she was too sore to notice anything. Victor came back in a couple of minutes, holding a fifth of whiskey, a sewing needle and a knife.<p>

"It's just a scratch, Vic," she shrugged again.

"Shut up," the man answered, then proceeded to pour the whiskey on the open wound. Nicole cringed, but no sound came out of her mouth, not even when Victor dug the knife into her flesh to take the bullet out. Blood poured down her arm and stained the sheets, then finally he sow her up and threw some more whiskey on the wound. Nicole was as still as a corpse, her eyes fixed on the wound, looking angry, and a little bit disgusted.

"There, all good," Victor commented, with a half smile. Nicole didn't thank him. She didn't even look at him, she just lay back down on the bed and rolled over, giving her back to him. Victor let out another deep sigh and crawled on the bed next to her.

She stiffened as soon as he tried to hold her, but he wasn't gonna let her have her way that night. He held her so tight that she had trouble breathing, but she discovered that she kinda liked it. The man stroked her hair, and she buried her face in his chest, trying her best to hold back the tears. She failed.


	3. Doubts

_3. Doubts_

Nicole got up early and took the longest shower ever. She tried to ignore the burning pain that ran through her whole body, just like she ignored the memories of the day before which were still vivid in her mind. The heat of the water made her numb after a while.

"Nicole?" Victor called from the bedroom. She wanted to answer, but no sound came out of her mouth. He was gonna hear the water running and realize she was in the shower, or at least that's what she hoped.

The stitches he'd given her the night before were holding better than she expected, but they pinched a little. As soon as the scorching water numbed that too, she got out of the shower and put a towel around her waist, then she went back to the bedroom and collapsed on the bed.

"Good morning to you too," Vic said sarcastically. The woman didn't even look at him. "So... you wanna tell me what happened?"

"No."

"Nicole, don't shut me out. Not this time."

"Okay, fine," the woman sighed, frustrated. "I was working a job. I got distracted, and my target had some pretty scary bodyguards. Happy now?" she spat out.

Victor looked at her, concerned. Nicole was a lot of things, but she was never a liar. So why was she lying to him now? Maybe she was ashamed, because no one had ever succeeded in beating her up that badly? What was she hiding from him? An affair maybe? No. She'd never do that. Then what could it be?

"I'm sorry, babe," Vic said, stroking her hair. He wasn't gonna mention his doubts, that would just make her more defensive.

"Vic, you know I love you right?"

"Well that came outta nowhere," the man said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Yeah, of course I do."

"Good."

"What's with the cheesiness lately, Nicky?"

"I'm not cheesy. Don't call me cheesy."

"Touchy-feely?"

"Neither," the woman exploded, and stormed out of the room. When Victor finally found the strength to follow her, he found her in the living room, fully dressed and ready to leave the house.

"Where are you going?"

"I have a job to finish," she simply stated, and left slamming the door behind her.

Having to lie to Victor was the worst feeling in the world, she felt like throwing up and slamming her head against a wall. But survival came first, she had to think for herself. The thought didn't reassure her, and when she got to the motel on the interstate where she had the appointment, she had to stop the car abruptly to throw up in the parking lot.

_What __am __I __doing?,_she kept asking herself as she walked in. The room smelled like urine and menthol, and suddenly she needed to puke again. But the man in the suit was already there.

"Miss Bolton," the man greeted her. "You're late."

"Cut the crap, Freddy."

"Your eye's looking better."

"Anyone ever tell you that you hit like a girl?"

"I don't usually like getting my hands dirty," the man replied, and handed her a piece of paper. Nicole looked down at it as she took it from his hands, and chuckled darkly. "That's my final offer, sweetheart."

"Make that 3 millions, and you have a deal."

"2 and a half."

"3."

"Fine. 3 millions it is. It's a pleasure doing business with you."

"Wish I could say the same."

The man took his suitcase and left the room. Nicole's smirk vanished in an instant, and soon enough she was bent over the toilet bowl, reversing the full content of her stomach.

That was it, she'd done it, and there was no going back.


	4. Misery

_4. Misery_

Victor observed his lover as she rode on top of him, violent and desperate like only killers could be, and he wondered what was going through Nicole's mind. She wasn't there, she moaned and shivered in his lap, but she wasn't there.

Nicole twisted her hips, moving in circles around his length, and he wasn't thinking anymore. He leapt up and held her tight, wasting himself inside of her. Nicole grinned in satisfaction and kissed his forehead before crawling down on the bed. It took a few seconds for Victor to think straight, but when he did the first thought that came to his mind wasn't comforting.

"Nicole," he breathed.

"Hm?" she mumbled, lighting a cigarette.

"You didn't—"

"No."

Nicole smiled at him, but there was something weird about that smile. Victor could see death and destruction behind it. The woman looked away from him and got up, mumbling something about a shower. When he heard the water running, he followed her and stood outside the bathroom door, not sure what he was doing, or why he was doing it. But there was something very wrong in the way she looked at him, and suspicion clouded his mind.

He heard sobbing. Then, Nicole broke down in tears. He could see in his mind the way the hysterical sobs were shaking her body, but he didn't move an inch.

Nicole knew he was outside the door; there was no way in hell he could ever sneak up on her. She could see the shadow of his feet under the door, could almost hear him breathing. She wished he would come get her. She wished he would hold her tight until the tears stopped and then put a bullet in her head.

But he didn't.

He leaned on the door and pinched the bridge of his nose, hoping she'd stop crying. He couldn't stand to listen. Maybe if she told him what was happening, he could help her. Maybe if she were sincere with him, he wouldn't be standing there doing nothing. If she only talked to him, he wouldn't feel so angry. He was frustrated. He would have wanted to punch her until she told him the truth.

The water stopped. Victor got back to the bedroom, careful not to make any noise, though he knew she was probably aware of his presence all along.

Nicole looked in the mirror. Her make-up had melted and stained her cheeks black; she looked like a puppy lost under the pouring rain. She had to convince herself to get out of the bathroom, after Victor had heard her cry she wasn't sure she could ever look at him again.

She was crying too much lately, and that disgusted her. Besides, what would Victor think? He was many things, but he was never stupid. He must have known something was up. She put on a straight face and finally got back to the bedroom. Victor lay on the bed, trying to look nonchalant.

"You should get dressed, Eddie will be here soon," Nicole said, her gaze lingering on Victor's body.

"You don't look like you want me to get dressed," the man smirked.

"Get dressed," Nicole dryly replied, turning away. Victor snorted, but obeyed. Soon after, Eddie arrived and Victor left with him. The poker game had been planned for a week, and Nicole had planned everything else around it.

She took all the guns in the house, except for hers, and locked them in the safe. She was folding Vic's leather jacket when she noticed something in the pocket. Hesitantly, she pulled a little velvety box out of the pocket. And her heart sank.

Unable to open it, she tossed the box on the other end of the room and collapsed on the couch.

Why was he doing this to her now? _He__'__s __not __doing __anything. _I _am._

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><p><strong>Hello people! The next chapter is going to be the last one, probably. Let me know what you think so far, I'd really appreciate it!<strong>

xoxo


	5. Forgiveness

_5. Forgiveness_

"Can we talk?" Nicole asked weakly, sitting beside Victor.

"Of course, babe," he smiled.

"Something's gonna happen tonight. I just need you to know that I'm sorry, but I don't regret what I did. You know me, I always think of myself first. I love you, but that's not enough," she spat out, trying so hard not to cry.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Vic exploded. Finally, she was being honest with him, but what she was saying didn't make any sense at all.

Nicole lowered her stare, and suddenly she remembered the little velvety box she'd thrown on the floor. She gave it one quick gaze, and hoped Vic didn't notice it. But he did.

"Is that-" he started, but the look in her eyes made him stop mid-sentence. "Nicole, are you leaving me?"

"I would never leave you," she whispered. "But we're going to be apart, yes."

"I don't understand," he said, frustrated.

Nicole suddenly buried her face in his chest, but she didn't cry. She just held him close and listened to his heartbeat, trying to imprint it in her memory for when she needed to remember it.

"Nicole, you're scaring me," Victor said, and the woman just held him tighter.

"I love you," she whispered. "I will always love you."

Victor didn't say a word. He had no idea what was going on, no idea what to say to make her feel better. Although, wasn't he the one who needed to feel better? All clues led to believe that he was being dumped... but that wasn't it, was it? Maybe, she got scared because of the ring she'd found, and now she wanted to put a bullet in his head. That was the way Nicole's brain worked.

"Babe?" he asked. The woman looked up at him. "Please, tell me what's going on."

"My love," she whispered once again. "I had no choice."

"What do you mean?"

"They beat it out of me," she said. "They said I would never see the sunlight again. They gave me so much money..."

"Who did?" Victor asked. He was beginning to understand what was happening.

"Oh, Vic," she sighed. "I love you..."

"Stop saying that!" he yelled, and pushed her away from him. He stood up and paced around the room, incredulous. "You sold me out," he stated.

"Vic, I—"

"You did, didn't you?"

There was no answer. Nicole saw a shadow under the door, and pinched the bridge of her nose. Freddy was here, there was no going back now. In a split second the door slammed open, and detective Freddy Jenkins stood there, gun in hand, surrounded by six other feds.

"How could you do this to me?" Vic yelled. Nicole sank into the sofa and finally a tear rolled down her cheek.

Freddy's men cuffed Victor and took him away. The detective stayed behind and sat down next to Nicole.

"Survival of the fittest, Nicole," he said. "You did the right thing."

"Get out," she hissed.

"I thought we might go get a drink," the man smirked.

Nicole grabbed him by the collar and threw him down on the floor.

"I said get out!" she yelled.

Freddy stood up and straightened his suit, then walked right out the door without uttering another word. Nicole closed the door behind him, then she went back to the couch and curled up on it, and she cried her fucking heart out.

When she was done crying, she took a shower, trying to wash away the guilt and regret she was feeling. She wasn't used to feeling that way, and it made her physically sick. But she had work to do that night. She got out of the shower and got dressed, then headed for the door.

She took Victor's Cadillac and drove away into the night.


End file.
